


Wolf In The Fold

by NervousOtaku



Series: Neo-City Series [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Mentions of Blood, Off-screen Deaths, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 06:09:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousOtaku/pseuds/NervousOtaku
Summary: Sam takes out a contract of sorts.





	Wolf In The Fold

_Placing crosses made of rowan on livestock was thought to keep them safe from harm._

It was tempting to go see his mother.

To let her know he was alright, to let her know he was trying to fix things.

But he couldn't.

The radio next to him crackled to life, no longer quietly babbling about the weather.

The parade had started.

Neo-City was celebrating the end of the war with and the victory over Newcastle. Rowan hadn't really fought much in this war. He'd been deployed to the Paleo-City battlefields with Sam. He'd been in and out of skirmishes with Noviopolis until Sam had been deployed and ended the war in one day. He'd deserted not long after his first mission against Newcastle.

Today, soldiers who did well would be decorated. Sam would be lauded for his part.

Today he wasn't going to miss.

Last time, he'd hit Sam in the chest and then grazed his cheek. Two shots. More than he was usually able to take. But today, he was further away, so all he would need was one well-placed shot to the head.

Then Sam would be dead.

Rowan swallowed, his throat feeling tight.

His phase-weapon changed into a rifle, part of it clamping into the windowsill. The pathways were pink.

The radio was describing the parade. The announcer was way too excited about it, considering how often it seemed the damn company hosted these events. For the most part, Rowan tuned it out. He knew the basic order of things. The head of the company and therefore the city-state would be first, then the board. Next would come the officers, then the soldiers, and finally Sam.

Sam wouldn't be making it to that stage.

Rowan exhaled a little, focusing on the scope the phase-weapon presented him with and the humming machine under his hands.

Something had changed in Sam. Something big. And the company wanted it kept quiet. That meant it was nothing good. The company was getting too powerful, their influence spreading too far, but most of that was because they had Sam under their heel. If Sam was dead, then all Neo-City had were the Unfazeables, and Unfazeables were nothing spectacular without their weapons.

Right as the thought crossed his mind, his phase-weapon's hum turned into a high-pitched whine.

“Shit...” he swore, removing his hands. The pathways stayed lit up and no movement back to neutral happened.

The barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head.

“You got sloppy, leader.”

“Not anyone's leader.” he grunted back, trying to turn his head and take stock of who was in here. See if he maybe could pinpoint which guy had the jammer, take him out, then solve the rest of his little problem.

It looked like everyone from his old squad was gathered around.

Great.

“It wasn't hard to guess who the terrorist was, we just needed Mr. Church to confirm it. Funny how it's always your house he visits after getting shot up.” the one holding him at gunpoint mentioned.

“So you're acting on Sam's orders, huh?” he replied, somewhat confused.

“No orders. Just looking to tie up some loose ends.”

“Consider them tied.”

Rowan gasped as he was sprayed with sticky warmth, the smell of copper filling the room. As bodies thudded to the floor, he jumped up, whirling around.

Sam lunged forward, hitting him hard in the gut with the pommel of his sword. Rowan was tossed back, slamming against a wall. Head ringing, he gagged. Sliding down to his hands and knees, Rowan retched. His whole torso was objecting, screaming in agony. Everything twitched and clenched at random, making him shake and shudder.

None of them had heard Sam come in. One move, and all of Rowan's old squad was dead, decapitated.

Rowan just barely heard Sam's footsteps over the ringing in his ears and the whining of his jammed phase-weapon. Black spots crawled menacingly across his vision. They almost obscured Sam's approach.

Rowan was quiet, waiting for Enkidu to cut off his head as well.

To his surprise, Sam knelt down, placing the sword and what looked like the jammer on the floor. Rowan didn't have the breath to ask what was going on, trying desperately not to vomit again. Especially since Sam's knees were touching the puke that was already covering the floor.

“You with me, Rowan?”

Directly after the question was asked, he sighed. This soft tingling... he knew it. This was Sam's healing magic.

“What...” he groaned, trying to sit up.

Instead, Sam scooped both him and the jammer up, making him groan in agony. The sudden elevation change and being forced to move almost had him puking again.

“C'mon, you and I have something to take care of.” Sam told him.

“... F... fuck you...”

“Not quite as much fun, but if sitting on my lap makes you feel better I'm happy to oblige.”

The whining of his weapon was painfully loud, making his head pound and his ears ring. The radio was still chattering, but he couldn't make the words out. He gagged a bit as he was set down and propped up in front of the rifle-form of his weapon.

“Okay... you're going to help me kill someone, alright?” Sam asked, patting his shoulder as he provided something for Rowan to lean against.

“... Or what.” he challenged flatly.

“Or I'll kill your mother.”

He was forced to laugh at that, the pain in his torso flaring up and making tears run down his face.

Did Sam think he was an idiot? He knew better than anyone that Sam would never physically hurt his mother. Sometimes it seemed like Sam cared more about his mother than he did, shameful as it was to admit that.

“They're planning to take her.”

And that shut him up, looking up at Sam with narrowed eyes.

“They know I'm sleeping with her, and they think she's my lover. They want to place her in HQ to, and I quote, reduce stress for the both of us. I refuse to let them do that. I'd rather kill her.” Sam said, face dark and cold as he glared out the window.

Taking a deep breath, Rowan put his hands to the upset phase-weapon.

“Who'm I shooting?”

There was a crunch, and the whining returned to a hum. The pathways reconfigured, no longer pink. Instead they were purple, with veins of bright orange.

“The head of the science department. I already took care of my counselor, so that just leaves him. He should be calling me soon to figure out where I am, on the left side of the stage. Cameras will have a harder time seeing him there.”

Rowan adjusted his position and moved the gun to search for the man. He was vaguely aware of the radio now broadcasting the company-head's speech, and of Sam holding his phone. He tuned both out, focusing on the scope and the hum of his phase-weapon.

There.

He watched as the man dialed a number on his phone and lifted it to his ear.

A second later, Sam's phone sang.

Rowan squeezed the trigger.

The radio devolved into static from the charge. The streets below descended into chaos. Rowan added a second shot. He told himself it was just to be sure, but really it was spite.

Sam clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Good job.”

He didn't answer.

Something was dropped into his lap.

“Maybe invest in a knife, too,” Sam suggested, moving away and leaving him to steady himself, “If you're relying only on that heap of scrap then you'll be useless when jammers are brought into the picture. And I can't always be around to keep your sorry hide safe.”

Rowan still didn't answer, looking down at the thing Sam had given him.

A blood-coated gun. Probably the one held to his head not that long ago.

“I'm off to visit her now. Any messages?”

He closed his eyes, swallowing. His mouth tasted like bile.

“Yeah.”

Silence. Sam was waiting, probably halfway out the door.

“... I love her... Tell her I love her, and... I'm sorry.”

There was no answer.

Sam had probably left already.

Sighing, Rowan pulled the phase-weapon closer, letting it return to neutral.

“Hey.”

He jumped, turning to stare at the door, eyes wide.

Sam was still there, examining him.

“I've missed you.”

Rowan turned away again. “I know.”

“Try not to get caught again.”

“Uh-huh.”

The door clicked shut.

_Placing crosses made of rowan on livestock was thought to keep them safe from harm._


End file.
